26

Wake of the Storm

Six sailors perished in the race. Aboard Business Post Naiad, Bruce Guy died of natural causes from a heart attack and Philip Skeggs became entangled in his equipment and drowned when the boat capsized. On Sword of Orion, Glyn Charles died after being washed overboard when his harness failed. And from Winston Churchill, John Dean, Jim Lawler, and Michael Bannister drowned when their life raft was struck by a wave and they were washed away.

On New Year's Day, a memorial service was held in Hobart to honor the six sailors who had been lost. More than 2,000 people attended, and four planes flew overhead in a “missing man” formation. Friends and relatives of the six who had died had an opportunity to speak. For each lost sailor, a wreath of white daisies and a single red rose was set adrift in the harbor.

Richard Winning, who heroically risked his life as the skipper of the Winston Churchill, offered these words of solace: “May their loved ones find some comfort in the knowledge that these men died doing something that they loved.”

The Commodore of the Cruising Yacht Club, Hugo Van Kretschmar, spoke as well. “We will miss you. We will remember you always. We will learn from the tragic circumstances of your passing. May the everlasting voyage that you have now embarked on be blessed with calm seas and gentle breezes. May you never have to reef or change a headsail in the night. May your bunk always be warm and dry.”

Not surprising after a tragedy of this magnitude, the memorial service ended neither the mourning for lost comrades nor the remaining questions about the race. The Cruising Yacht Club of Australia launched its own investigation and, after six months, released a 180-page report with recommendations intended to improve race safety.

The report found that “no one cause can be identified as responsible” for the multiple incidents that occurred during the storm. Acknowledging that no one measure could by itself be significant, the report went on to suggest a series of incremental changes. Taken together, the investigators argued, these changes could have a substantive impact on the safety of the race.

Changes recommended in the CYCA report included specific measures such as compulsory reporting on strong winds above 40 knots (the “Sword of Orion protocol”); compulsory safety equipment including EPIRBs and personal strobes; increases in required experience of crew; and compulsory attendance at prerace weather, safety, and search-and-rescue briefings by at least 30 percent of each crew.

Though the events of the 1998 race were tragic, the CYCA report concluded that the dismastings and rollovers were caused by extraordinarily large waves. Whether one of these “rogue waves” struck a particular boat was, ultimately, a “matter of chance.”

A second investigation was conducted by New South Wales Coroner John Abernethy. The coroner's inquest was initiated because five of the deaths did not occur from natural causes, and Abernethy felt that an incident involving five or more people should be considered a “disaster.” Thus, the 1998 Sydney to Hobart Race was a disaster that warranted further investigation.

This coronial inquest produced a document with evidence and findings more than 350 pages long, not including hundreds of additional pages of appendices. Acknowledging that “the window of hindsight is the clearest window of all,” the coroner's report made a number of additional recommendations about safety and equipment.

Abernethy recognized that implementing these recommendations would create extra work and expense. One specific requirement, for example, was that at least half of the crew complete a safety and survival course every three years. Abernethy explained that, from the evidence of the survivors of Winston Churchill, it was “indisputable that trained crew have a greater likelihood of survival than untrained crew.”

After hearing testimony from two expert witnesses, Abernethy concluded that the missing caulking “Mega” Bascombe had reported before the race was not a factor in Winston Churchill's sinking. Damage from the wave that hit the boat created problems so severe that the yacht foundered. Any small amounts of putty that may have come loose would have had no impact on the Churchill's fate.

The investigation did reveal some specific shortcomings in the screening process for qualifying boats. For example, the limit of positive stability (LPS) for Business Post Naiad was inadequate. The LPS is a measure of how far a boat can tip over and still recover.

The minimum requirement for the race was 115 degrees, or 110 degrees for boats that had been “grandfathered in.” Business Post Naiad had a limit of positive stability of 104.7, which would have made it ineligible to race. Whether that would have made a difference is unknown. A number of other boats with qualifying stability metrics met disaster when hit by the enormous waves of the storm.

The coroner's inquiry also probed deeply into the communication between the Bureau of Meteorology and the Race Management Team (RMT). The report was especially critical of the RMT's lack of understanding about the significance of weather forecasts—in particular, predictions about wind speed and wave height.

Abernethy had harsh words about some aspects of race management. But by the end of the inquest he was satisfied that the CYCA had, on its own initiative, achieved radical changes in time for the 1999 race. A number of the club's recommended changes were, in fact, incorporated into the coroner's report. One specific measure was that Bureau of Meteorology personnel would be more involved with the Race Management Team throughout the race.

Newspaper and magazine reporters had a field day with the disaster, and their investigations ran parallel with official inquiries. Looking for scapegoats, the press pointed fingers at anybody and everybody who could be blamed for the deaths of six sailors.

The rescue effort was expensive and lives were put at risk, but fascination with the race seemed to be about more than the number of fatalities and the cost of the rescue. The end of the year is historically a news drought in Australia, but in 1998 reporters had everything they needed to write vivid, shocking stories. The reporter's expression “If it bleeds, it leads” seemed to fit perfectly. It was a target-rich environment for anyone who wanted to find a villain.

Scathing words were spoken about “the captains who went out in the storm when it was blowing a gale,” and “their recklessness that cost lives.” Though the sailors weren't the only ones to blame, critics argued, “they had the final responsibility about the decision to launch or not.”

For many sailors who had started the race prior to the storm warning, and who were expecting only the usual “southerly buster,” these statements seemed odd. They were trapped in a situation that ultimately became a race for survival. Their view was that “you can call off the race, but not the storm.”

All this controversy and scorn came as a surprise to the Ramblers. They had made a series of decisions, each of which they believed to be reasonable at the time. They had faced everything that nature threw at them with courage and equanimity. And there were no cowboys, hotshots, or rock stars aboard AFR Midnight Rambler.

The Ramblers’ view of the storm was very different from that of the derisive public critics and many in the media. As Ed Psaltis saw it, “In the end, only the storm is to blame. There was a very volatile low forming, and it could have moderated or it could have intensified. Well, it intensified—but that's ocean racing.”

With all the debate, analysis, and investigation surrounding the 1998 Sydney to Hobart Race, the story of the smallest boat in ten years to win the Tattersall's Cup went largely unnoticed. Many newspaper articles were satisfied to write that “Sayonara won the race,” with no mention of AFR Midnight Rambler as the overall winner of the Tattersall's trophy.

Though the victory of the Ramblers was largely overshadowed, their story provides an extraordinary metaphor for understanding Teamwork at The Edge. And it is a story that has continued long after 1998.

Larry Ellison declared that if he lived to be a thousand he would never do another Hobart. But for the crew of the Rambler, it's always “next year.” AFR Midnight Rambler has sailed in the Sydney to Hobart Race every year since 1998, with many of the original crew members aboard.

Their passion for sailing, and for each other, keeps bringing them back. Ed Psaltis put it this way: “To my mind the Sydney to Hobart is a chance to maintain the spirit of adventure—of ‘having a go,’ which is part of the average Aussie. I'll certainly keep doing it. It's part of my life, and I'm still aiming for that second victory.”